Overboard
by deGorgeous
Summary: Moments from a day at sea, which bring Hook and Emma that much closer. Set after 2x22.


**Overboard**

.

.

A routine had developed between Captain Hook and Emma. Every morning, since their departure from Storybrooke, the two of them were the first to rise, which afforded them an hour of solitude before the rest of the passengers joined them.

Emma always perched herself on an elevated section of the deck, her eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of Henry. On another journey in an enchanted land, Hook had been eager for conversation. Now, however, he understood her more clearly. They were on a new mission and the urgency of the task was not lost on him.

"Come here, Swan."

His voice is low but confident, with no flirtation in his tone. Emma makes her way to the ship's helm, holding on to the ropes and bannisters along the way. She has yet to get accustomed to the ocean's rhythm.

"Yeah?" she asks, hands shoved in her pockets.

"Here." He gestures to the wheel. "I think it's about time you learned."

She looks at him suspiciously and scoffs. It's a nervous habit she can't seem to get rid of. "So you're holding private lessons now?" she deadpans.

"No, just one," he replies, stepping back to give Emma room to take over. "You're the only one here I trust to handle her."

Emma can feel he's telling the truth, and is surprised by his sincerity. Hook's business-like manner puts her at ease. She rationalizes that, yes, this is a skill she needs.

"It's important someone else knows how to sail the ship," he continues. "In case something happens to me."

It occurs to her how dangerous Neverland actually is, if even Captain Hook is planning in the event of his demise. She grabs hold of the handles and takes a firm stance. Hook keeps his distance but makes contact when he needs to correct her form. He tells her to remove her gloves. Her grip will be firmer, he explains, for when she'll need to make sharp turns.

The care the captain takes to properly instruct her is duly noted.

"Is this how you taught Neal?" She means it jokingly but her words cause a pain in her chest.

The comment proves emotionally charged for Hook as well. After a moment he speaks again.

"I liked the lad. Despite what he may have told you." Emma listens intently, looking over her shoulder every few seconds to get a look at his face. Why this is important to her she has yet to understand. "I only wanted to start a family with the son of the woman I loved." He leaves it at that.

Hook moves away from Emma and the moment is gone. The lesson is over.

"I was right," he says energetically. "You'd make a hell of a pirate."

.

.

That night, Emma offers to steer the Jolly Roger on her own. She's always learned best by doing. She had suggested Hook get some sleep. She proposes they take turns, but he remains a short distance from her. She won't readily admit it but she's glad he stayed.

Charming and Regina are present this time, each as far from the other as possible. Hands glued to his hips, the prince watches as Regina makes her way below deck.

Hook feels strange watching Emma at work. It's a mixture of anxiety and pride. He looks outward from the stern, over the dark sky and watches as waves begin to crash against them.

The storm hits before Hook can warn her. The wind is violent and drowns out their cries. Charming rushes to his daughter's aid but both men can only watch as Emma is knocked off the ship and into the ocean.

In the chaos she can hear a man calling out her name followed by a loud splash. Charming dives in immediately and manages to grab hold of her. With his hand on the wheel, the captain tangles a rope in his hook and throws it out to them, pulling on it when he feels resistance.

The last thing Emma remembers is being held tightly in her father's arms, and the fear in the piercing blue eyes of a legendary pirate.

.

.

Emma is resting in the captain's cabin, wrapped in several wool blankets and her mother's sweater underneath. Her parents have made the room cozy for her, effectively taking over the space. They check in every few minutes despite her assurances that she's alright and that her ego is the only thing that's bruised.

When she hears a knocking at the door she exhales sharply and proclaims that she's fine.

"No, you're not." Hook closes the door behind him and remains there. Emma sits up straighter and smooths out the tangles in her hair.

"It's your place," she says, her voice cracking a bit. "You don't need to knock."

"As I've said, love. Always a gentleman." His remark earns a smirk from her. For a second she imagines they're back on the beanstalk when her only concern was getting back to her land.

He takes a few steps towards the bed, surveying his now cluttered cabin. Snow White's back pack is on the floor, along with empty cups and soaked bits of fabric. A makeshift clothing line has been erected, where Emma's garments are still drying. It seems the Charmings make a home for themselves wherever they go. He notices it's something they're quite fond of doing.

"Glad to see you're well," he says, looking at her now.

Emma struggles to hide her embarrassment as she recalls her failed first try at sailing. "Not much of a pirate after all."

"You did splendidly. The storm was unexpected. If its any consolation, it means we're getting closer." He leans on the bedpost and looks away. "Luckily you had your father to rescue you."

"Yeah, I did," she whispers, the thought lighting up her face.

"I've never seen anything like it." Hook had been taken aback by Charming's actions. However much he may have disliked the man, he gave him credit for his willingness to put his child first. It was a quality that Emma shared.

"My dad had some help." Emma fidgets with the bed sheets, making eye contact with Hook after a long pause. "You're a hero when you want to be." Hook registers the words and not the guarded tone behind them. He only nods in return.

Hook twists his body in an odd manner as he tries to leave, clearly hiding something. In the dimly lit room it's hard to make him out but Emma can see the sleeve of a beige blouse tucked among the stack of items in his hand. She says nothing of the attempted gesture.

"Goodnight," he says as his hook opens the door, "Captain Swan."

.

.

.

* * *

_tumblr: gentlesleaze + youtube: gss42x_


End file.
